


dancing with a stranger

by badhound



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meeting At A Party AU, More Characters will be Added soon, i dont remember how to tag lol bear with me, promptio, u know. the good stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 09:06:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badhound/pseuds/badhound
Summary: Prompto and Gladio meet at a New Years Eve ball drop party.





	dancing with a stranger

**Author's Note:**

> based off an au idea from lahoera in the ffxv book club

New Years Eve comes quicker than expected for the young photographer. Originally, he had planned to simply stay in for the night. He wasn’t ever fond of the idea of leaving his dogs alone on holidays like these, with all the fireworks going off. He couldn’t say no to his boss inviting him to a ball drop party, though; there’s not much of a choice for him in it, especially as the party will be doubling as a gig for them. A great opportunity to earn some extra cash.

Prompto can never be quite sure about the dress code for these events. It isn’t a business party, but casual seems too…  _ casual _ for it. After an hour of staring at himself in the mirror and asking his dogs’ opinions, he settles for a white button up, sleek black pants, and a bow tie. He bedazzles his glasses with colorful gems, styles up his hair, and nods at his reflection. Good enough, right? Right. Prompto shuffles to his door and grabs his camera bag, slips on his shoes, and with a kiss goodbye to Bean and Pickles, he sets off for the party.

According to his boss, some rich guy is hosting the party in his penthouse. Prompto assumes that means his outfit should be modest enough, but he still gets that twinge of anxiety as he steps into the fancy elevator with a group of well-dressed men that seem to be having a lively conversation. As they go up, the elevator pauses to both let people out and let others in, and soon it’s crowded–enough so that he’s now shoved up against a large man in the corner. Prompto tries not to let the muscles intimidate him, and tries even harder to keep his eyes locked on the floor, especially when people keep moving and squishing him against the guy.

After what seems like forever, the elevator finally stops at the top, and the people filter out. Prompto makes the mistake of glancing back at the man he had a particularly intimate moment with; they meet eyes, the guy  _ smirks _ , and Prom outright dry heaves before pushing through the crowd to find his boss.

The night is spent mingling and taking photos of the partygoers. A few jip him of the charge after they see the picture, but Prompto is happy enough with his earnings that he doesn’t chase them down. With his boss nowhere to be seen, he moves through the jumbling mass of bodies to the buffet table. Across the room, he sees a group of very fancy men, with a short, dark-haired man in the middle. He’s handsome. Fine skin, beautifully tailored suit, beautiful smile. He’s a photographer’s dream, but… standing right at his side is the large man from the elevator, and he seems to be enjoying himself. Prompto takes his time picking out cheese and crackers from the table, more focused on ogling the five-course meal in front of him rather than the… actual food. It’s in this moment that the man happens to look up, and they meet eyes.

Prompto, having been leaning over the table, now straightens himself so quickly he nearly knocks the entire buffet line over. He panics–shoves about four crackers into his mouth like a rabid chipmunk (all while holding eye contact with this guy) and scrambles back into the crowd.  _ Astrals _ , he thinks, placing himself on the sidelines and trying not to choke on the crackers he just about inhaled.  _ What are you thinking, dude? _

He pulls his phone from his pocket and refreshes his apps, absently chewing on a cracker. He’s just opened his texts (to let Iggy know he’s okay) when a shadow falls over him, and the first thought that crosses his mind is, this is it. Prompto slowly lowers his phone and looks up to find the large man before him, though instead of a raised fist, he holds a glass of champagne. A glass of champagne that is being held out toward him, like some sort of offering. Is he in heaven? …Is that too much of a hasty thought right now?

“Hi,” The dude’s voice elicits a strange groaning noise from Prompto. It’s deep, guttural, and is like if fine whiskey could speak. The blond clears his throat awkwardly and the cracker in his mouth drops to the floor. He thinks, maybe, he should pick it up, but he is in no way about to bend over in front of this guy and risk possibly brushing his hair over his junk. Nope. The cracker will remain forgotten.

“Hhhey.” Prompto says breathlessly, to which the champagne being offered to him is bobbed in the air. He takes it with a small “oh,” and looks back up at the man. His brain short circuits and suddenly he can’t remember how to speak or what to do with a glass.

The guy raises an eyebrow and smiles. “I’m Gladio.” He motions to Prompto’s glass, before taking a drink from his own. “You gonna drink that, or just hold it?”

Prompto looks at his champagne. “Oh, right. Yeah. Th- thanks.” He tips his head back and takes it like a shot. Both of Gladio’s eyebrows are now raised, and he lets out a loud laugh. He finishes off his own drink. They both forget Prompto hasn’t introduced himself, but neither seem to mind. After the initial surprise and panic from the blond, he calms down easily listening to Gladio talk, and the two spend the next two hours chatting mindlessly as they walk around.

“So, you come here with anyone?”

Prompto takes another cracker from the buffet table as they pass it again. “Sort of. My boss invited me, told me to think of it as a gig.”

Gladio turns to him with a shocked expression. “Whoa, don’t tell me you’re kissing your boss at midnight.” The blond almost chokes on the cracker. He coughs and waves his hand frantically.

“No! No, no way! He’s nice, but, nooo.” He leans in slightly and raises a hand to the side of his mouth before whispering,“Kinda creeps me out.” They both laugh, and eventually their wandering brings them to one of the large glass windows. Prompto dares to glance out and shudders--he’s never been good with heights.

As they stand in silence, someone gets up on a table and announces the countdown will begin soon. The two turn to face him with the rest of the crowd. Prompto can’t help but think about the consequences of possibly kissing this near stranger at midnight. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, right? They’re both obviously thinking it. It’s New Years, anyway. Shouldn’t you start it on a good note?

Prompto idly swishes his glass of champagne and stares at the ground.

_ 10… _

_ 9… _

_ 8… _

_ 7… _

It wouldn’t hurt to try.

_ 5… _

_ 4… _

Prompto glances up at Gladio.

_ 2… _

As the rest of the party turns to someone, the blond turns to Gladio and reaches up to cup his face and tug him down to his level. Their lips connect with ease--it’s definitely cliche, but Prompto can’t help but think they fit together perfectly. He can feel Gladio smile against his lips. Prompto smiles too.

_ Happy New Year! _

**Author's Note:**

> none of my works are really edited; please excuse any mistakes made


End file.
